


Rain Boots

by Colored_eyes_101



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bookstores, Fluff, M/M, Minor Angst, implied major character death, single parent!Jean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Colored_eyes_101/pseuds/Colored_eyes_101
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always been raining. It may not seem like it, but the rain always falls. It's been on the verge of turning into a hurricane, and I'm scared of the harm that hurricane could cause. I was as dense as to think that the rain had finally stopped, but it's not over. Maybe it'll never be over? Nah, it'll end. </p><p>It can't rain forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mist

     I closed my eyes and sank deeper into the park bench, my chin resting on my collar bone as I snuggled into a comfortable position. My surroundings were so pleasing it was hard not to doze off right then and there.

 

     The air smelt crisp and clear, the sun easing it's way into the horizon as the after noon slowly came to it's close. The sky was still as elegant a blue as ever, the clouds wavering into different shapes, only the most creative imagination could decipher. I held a paper cup with it's thin plastic lid -attached somewhat crookedly to the brim- in my hand. Coffee steam brewed over the awry edges. It smelled of simple, pure black coffee; I didn't like it plain black in the slightest. But hey, anything to make the cute barista think I was more manly, was worth my casual enjoyment. I wondered if this was what heaven would be like. If it wasn't, I couldn't be sure if I would want to go there after all.

 

     I began to think. A dreadful kind of thing for me to do in a time of peace. Me thinking meant, me going into pure hell. I lost my peace, in my thoughts of work, past relationships, and my somewhat awful childhood. I wished I could escape my thoughts, but once I was in them, I would be a lost cause to please.

The sky grew dark, and ugly; the clouds twisted into weird blobs; the smell of my beloved black coffee turned sickening. And then there I was, holding my arms wide open for my pessimistic person. Hello fucking moody me, how have you been? Fucking moody you say? I should have known. Man, this is awful.

 

"H-hey, do you think I could sit here?" 

 

Fucking rude is all I can think, though at the same time, I'm eternally grateful for the interruption.

 

"Hello? Are you okay?"

 

      My thoughts are shoved aside by the friendly, exasperated voice. It sounds similar (at least to me anyways) to that green kid who sings the pie song on that teen titans shit version cartoon. Only it sounds a little older and deeper. I look up as my eyes lock with a set of dark, kind of golden eyes that, sort of ring a tiny little bitch of a bell in the farthest corner of my mind. I'm a bit perturbed for the poor fucker to see me like this; head tucked deep into my chest, brows narrowed, pupils dilated, and a frown deep enough to stretch around the bottom of my chin. But yeah, hi to you too.

 

"Sorry. Yeah you can sit here." I realize my tone of voice is really edgy sounding. It's like a flash from the past all at once. I swear to the idea that maybe, just maybe I know this guy from somewhere.

 

"Do…do we know each other?" He asks me in a sort of, revelation-like way.

 

"Probably not." I reply. 

 

"Wait- it's…it's Jean, right?"

 

"Well never mind then, it appears we do."

 

"Hey! It's uh, Marco? From every class. We uh, kinda had a ton of classes together-"

 

"Marco!?" I jerk up to my words so that I look happy to see him. It's not that I'm not happy, I'm just-

 

"Oh! So you do remember me? It's been so long!" He replied, embarrassingly equal in tones of excitement. 

 

"It has been, heh. How are…things?"

 

"Oh! Uhm, pretty normal I guess. I've been working a part-time job until I can uh, finish university. You? I mean, no offense, but Jean Kirschtein in a park? That's pretty unusual!"

 

"Actually, if I had a choice I'd much rather be-" 

 

"DADDY! DADDY! CONNIE HIT ME!" squeals the voice of someone's barbaric child. Oh wait, that ones mine.

 

"Did you steal his cookie?" I interrogate the bustling little auburn haired blur who's still charging for me. Long ago I learned not to be so startled by her speed.

 

"Yeah..." Sasha replies. Aw man, she stained her Jumper. We just went clothes shopping, and I had decided, 'why not buy her some nice looking shit this time 'round, maybe she wont get it dirty' which was incredibly stupid. Even her new bright cherry red sneakers a stuck with mud and various different types of leaves. Her black tights, which were chosen to contrast her bright yellow and blue paisley jumper, as ripped at the knees, also caked with dirt. Oh, what? My brilliance when it comes to fashion sense surprises you? Well guess what? I'm fucking flawless when it comes to attractive clothing pieces. I'm what you could call, a mastermind-

 

"Well then that's how it goes. You steal, the baldy hits. Don't come crying to me."

 

"But daddyeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" She squeals annoyingly.

 

"But nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo." I respond mockingly, taking in a deep breath because shit, I don't have young lungs anymore.

 

"You're a meanie!" She fake-cries, though a tiny hint of a smile can be seen on her filthy face.

 

"I know, it's horrible. I'm a big ugly gross stupid meanie who cooks you dinner every night, lets you watch horror movies, and even lets you sleep with him after you get scarred watching the horror movies." 

 

"Pfbt" She sticks her tongue out at me, whipping around and running back to the little bald kid she's such good friends with. He's a good kid; tiny; but good. I turn my attention back to the figure sitting beside me, memory flooding back to me of his identity. I try to think of what to say, but lucky for me, he beats me to it.

 

"You have a kid now? She's cute." He says with a warm smile.

 

"Thanks. She's a huge pain but yeah, she's cute." I groan. 

 

"So, she is your's then?"

 

What the hell?

 

"Um uh, yes?"

 

"Oh! It's just,...you know. Adoption exists now and, stuff."

 

"I know it exists dumb ass I'm not that stupid. And yes she is very much mine." I realize how annoyed my voice sounds, and feel a little guilty for it, but he doesn't seem bothered by it.

 

"Better watch it mister daddy, you shouldn't, and can't be, so free with your language you know." Ah good old fucking judgmental Marco. I may have actually missed you a little.

 

"Wait until your a dad. You'll see how difficult it really is."

 

"Ha, I don't doubt it."

 

"Best not. It's a nightmare if you do."

 

"I'm guessing this comes from personal experience?"

 

"You fucking know it."

 

He's silent for a moment, staring at me intently for a while, looking completely lost in his thoughts. I wonder if he ever gets lost in them like I do. Maybe he is right now.

 

"Well, it was actually nice to see you again! I haven't really seen anyone from our high school days, it seems they all chose colleges out of state, but uh, what do you say we exchange numbers?"

 

"Sure. Here- you do it." I say while handing him my phone.

 

"Oh, I see how it is." He gives me a little smirk, and a pitiful glance.

 

"Hey, you asked. I'm willing, I just don't want to have to type anything on those tiny-ass keys." 

 

      I watch as he taps away on his fancy-ass phone, while typing on my little lonely tracfone. It's been enough for me, but I can't help but be envious of his phone. They can do a whole ton of shit that mine can't, and that's just crazy. It's a phone. Yet it's also a music player, computer, TV, arcade, camera, and robot all at the same fucking time. It's just not fair.

 

"Jealous much?" He teases, noticing the growing pout in my face.

 

"You're not raising a mini human, so you wouldn't understand the shit I want- but can't have." I say sarcastically.

 

"That's true, and I'm sure when she's older, she'll be plenty grateful."

 

"Hah, after the teenage years you can never hope much for anything from them."

 

He smirks at me while still focusing on the phone, before looking back up at me and grinning.

 

"Well, if books are still something you appreciate, you should come visit me where I work. I work at the Chapters book store on Vinscount st. I'll treat you." 

 

"If I was half the decent human being I used to be, I would turn you down but free books sound like life support to me right now." I kid, earning a bright grin.

 

"Here," he offers me my phone, still keeping eye contact. " I'll expect to see you there some time soon."

 

"Sure." I blindly reach for my phone, before shoving it in my back pocket.

 

"Bye Jean."

 

"Yep."

 

      He nods in my direction before breaking into a jog towards the north entrance of the park. Even though he's running away from me, I still make a mental note of the scene. His dark hair, his tanned skin (I'm so jealous), his leather jacket covering a plaid shirt, and even his completely childish black high tops, who even wears those anymore? Not to mention those stupid dark denim skinny jeans that glide against his figure, sure to make any lady swoon. It was so annoying. After making my mental note, I see he's already out of view and has probably already left the park. I turn back my focus to Sasha, who is flinging herself from the swing into the sandbox like an idiot. After yelling at her to stop being dangerous, I whip my phone out from my butt pocket to check the time. Dinner is already on the stove- did I turn the stove off? Yeah. Dinner is on the stove, I'll need to warm it up…god damn these forsaken pockets I hate these jeans the pockets are so tiny- can't get my fucking finger in there and grab the fuckin phone- ah there we go- shit did I butt dial? I didn't get a chance to turn on the keyboard lock son of a bitch- what did I cook for dinner again? Oh yeah spring rolls, god what tasty mother fuckers I want to go home right now and-

 

This isn't my phone.

 

This is a goddamn fancy-ass phone.

 

Jesus fucking Christ Marco you god damn idiot.

 


	2. Sprinkle

     Needless to say, the random call on his phone coming from my number at 9 pm was more than expected. Marco had been beside himself with panic, saying that he was sorry he was so stupid for mixing up our entirely different phones, and that my phone had been ringing nonstop and he didn't know how to answer it considering it's complicated tiny buttons and endless options. None of them were actually phone calls. They were just daily schedule reminders. I felt kind of sorry for the guy, but then again- I didn't. He was dumb enough not to have a passlock on his phone, so I was able to enjoy some of his phone games after I'd put Sasha to bed. It kept me busy from thinking too much. One too many times before, I had gotten so drowned into my thoughts that…hm. I'd scared Sasha to the point that she started bawling her eyes out. I'd sent her to spend the night at a friend's so I could calm down without scaring her further. The next day when I went to pick her up I was sure she'd be scared shitless of me, but she ran up to me with her arms opened so wide, hugging my legs since she was too short to reach any higher. It had made me so…relieved. I'd cried for thirty minutes, holding her in my arms while my friend watched on in amazement. I was pretty amazed too, considering how many tears i'd cried.

 

     Around 9:30 pm we'd managed to change the subject back to the phones, after having an extended conversation about the newest printed release of a novel we both just so happened to be interested in. He said he'd stop by my place at 10 to do the exchange, and I'd offered him some non caffeinated shit before he headed home. When I heard the gentle rapping on my door I practically jumped because, it's been a long time since i've had anyone over this late. I rushed up to the door before any further knocking could reach my sleeping brat's ears. Not that I don't love my brat. I absolutely cherish my brat. I opened up the door just to peak out through a small crack, as though the person outside weren't the someone I was expecting.

 

"H-hey…ha ha. So, about that uh, drink? I could really use it. I have terrible road rage…"

 

"I'm not letting a hit and run driver in my house."

 

"I DIDN'T HIT ANYBODY I SWEAR." He whisper-yelled.

 

"Not even any squirrels? Those fuckers have been making a mess on my porch."

 

"You live in an apartment?"

 

"Still mine. Anyways, get in here you're letting the cold air in."

 

"I'd be glad to come into this nice abode you have."

 

"Eh, the outside appearance lies."

 

     I opened the door up big enough for him to make it in, then closed the door behind him. I scooted down the hallway, making sure to do a majestic slide around the corner because sleek, hardwood floors and socks blend very well together, and I wanted to make it known that I knew my way around my own home. And like the badass I am, I didn't fucking slip. I made sure he was following me before directing a nod towards the counter stool he could sit at. I offered him a glass of some tea which was mixed with some special shit to make the downing of the drink a bit more exciting. I leaned against the counter and watched him.

 

     I glanced past him for a moment to take in the fact that my living room was a total wreck. Sasha's clothes and my clothes were everywhere, and her toys were strewn about half broken from her rough housing. Left over McDonald's happy meal boxes were stacked to make a castle for her autobot toys and her one lone Barbie stood on its stand, resting on top of the TV. We looked like pigs. But I'd never really had much of a need to clean up...even so I really wanted to clean up because with someone else here I just felt as though I'd regained vision after going tragically blind.

 

"Ah. Good stuff." He said, slamming the drink down on the counter exasperatedly. I would have hushed him, but it wasn't loud enough to wake Sasha.

 

"Good to know."

 

"So, the missus asleep?"

 

 

I stopped midslurp of my own minorly intoxicated drink.

 

"Heh, the only missus here, is Sasha."

 

"Oh. I'm sorry."

 

"It's fine."

 

"Yeah…so, how's Sasha by the way?"

 

"She's okay. It's only been about 5 hours since we left the park, so she was practically out before she finished her dinner."

 

"She's a cute kid."

 

"Can't say I disagree. She is my kid after all."

 

"WOW."

 

"Hey, it's okay to be a proud parent. Plus, it makes me feel good about myself. I see that as two wins."

 

" _You_ would."

 

"You know me so well after so many years."

 

"We got along well! It's hard for me to forget my friends. I haven't seen any of them though. Hana went with her missionary boyfriend to Africa, and Eren went to a college in like,-"

 

"Ohio?"

 

"Yeah! Have you been in contact with him or something?"

 

"He was my brother in law."

 

     I was surprised it came out so easily. But it's not as though I was still down about her dying. If anything I was long past it. I had too many other things to worry about. And besides that, Marco would probably think we were just divorced or something. Because of the way i would carry myself when talking about it, many people often times assumed it was just a bad break up. And I guess that makes it easier for me.

 

"You, married Mikasa?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Sasha, is Mikasa's?"

 

"Yes, Marco."

 

"Holy-…wow. I had no idea- I mean, I can see it now, she has that sort of free spirit-"

 

"Marco, it's fine."

 

"I'm being inconsiderate, I'm sorry- I should stop apologizing, or should I? You-"

 

"Drink your beer-tea Marco."

 

"Right!"

 

I watched as he somewhat aggressively downed his drink. I could see him glancing at me from over the brim, and I just gawked back at him.

 

"Daddyeeeee… who is that?"

 

We both jerked at the little squeak of a voice she had. I stood straight up so I could see her from behind Marco, where she stood in her pj's, her hair doing things I didn't think were possible.

 

"Hey baby girl. What are you doing up?"

 

For some reason I feel like being gentle. I usually only call her that when I'm stressed. And she's a smart enough kid to pick up on that.

 

"Daddy you should have some sleepy tea."

 

And she tries so hard, to make sure I'm okay.

 

"Good idea baby. Go back to bed now, okay?"

 

"But-"

 

"I'm fine. You have school tomorrow. Go on now. Go to bed."

 

"Okay. Goodnight daddy. Goodnight mister." Sasha nodded towards Marco.

 

"Goodnight miss." Marco replied gently.

 

"He he." Sasha giggled at the title he'd called her.

 

      We watched on as Sasha dragged her feet back to her bed, which was technically our bed, since the apartment only had one bedroom. So we'd sleep together. We were both the clingy type, so it made sleeping easier.

 

"I've made this really awkward and hard haven't I."

 

"It's okay, we're just not used to socializing, I mean- at least I'm not good at socializing. I'm a pretty shitty person, so not many people like to share their company with me."

 

"I think you're a good person. You've just got a different sort of approach on things. A unique, but suitable approach."

 

"Heh, say that to everyone else I've had a decent conversation with that went wrong."

 

"I will."

 

"You're a fucking cheerleader, you know that?"

 

"I would have tried out back in high school to be honest." He smirked.

 

"I would have loved to see something like that."

 

"I could have done so many strip teases."

 

"NO."

 

      As I imagine the pain and suffering of the students in the bleachers, watching in agony as their classmate stripped himself of his cheerleading uniform, Marco simply laughed, probably at my reaction to his gesture.

 

"Ah,-" The laughing abruptly stopped, "Is that accurate?" He gestured to my watch.

 

"Yeah?"

 

"Shit. I've got to get home. My landlord wanted his payment by…god will I have time? I've got to go, thanks for the uh, what did you call it?-"

 

"Beer-tea?"

 

"Yeah. It was good. Sorry I have to leave like this, and sorry about- earlier. I'll catch you later okay? Is it alright if I text you and shi- stuff?"

 

"Sure. No problem."

 

"Okay! Thanks! I'll just get going-"

 

"I'll see you out." Though to be honest, I hadn't really wanted to. The door was only right around the corner. I'd be damned if he couldn't find his own way out of my freakishly small apartment.

 

"Thank you."

 

     Marco followed, practically hyperventilating down my neck. I opened the door, waving him good bye when he had made it to his car. And watched from the doorway as he zoomed away. He really wasn't kidding about that road rage. He looked like a drunk driver. How did he even get his license? Or did I put too much beer in his tea?

 

**To: 503-657-2…**

 

**Hey, when you get home let me know. You drive like you just got out of an asylum and are still wearing a straightjacket.**

 

And about an thirty minutes later I got the reply I was grateful for.

 

**From: 503-657-2…**

 

**Thanks. Made it home fine and for all u kno i probably am an escaped convict.**

 

Amazing.

 

**To: 503-657-2…**

 

**Very encouraging. I'll make sure not to let you consume my beer next time.**

 

**From: 503-657-2…**

 

**Aw…:(**

 

We gonna do the little faces now huh? Good thing i've peeked over one too many teenagers shoulders to see how the pros text.

 

**To: 503-357-2…**

 

**> :D >:D >:D**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! I chose the 503 number thing, because that's the one for Oregon, and in Oregon there is plenty of rain, leaves, fall, you know,. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments, because they do mean a lot to me, and support me through out! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. Drizzle

"Alright here we go! So, good morning Jean, how have things been going at home lately? Any more-"

 

"Fine. It's been fine."

 

"Jean,. You arranged these sessions three months ago, because you needed- wanted help. I can't help you Jean, unless you give me a little more to go on."

 

"I've been stressed. It's hard not to be able to think so much, but once I start I can't stop. I'll get depressed and angry and I'll break shit. I'll scream and cry and talk to her, and she never answers so it just makes me angrier. There's literally nothing I haven't already told you. Except..."

 

"Except, what Jean?"

 

"I ran into a guy from my high school. We were sort of buds, I guess. We had all of our classes together."

 

"And you've seen him recently?"

 

"Yeah. We met in the park the other day when Sasha was having a play date with one her little friends. We got to talking a bit, and a mix up made him come over to my place later on, and we got to visit a bit more."

 

"And what exactly did you two talk about?"

 

"He asked where my wife was, because he didn't know, and I told him. Sort of."

 

"Sort of?"

 

"How is any of this important?"

 

"Jean,."

 

"I just socialized! That's all!"

 

"Jean, I know you value your privacy, but in order for us to get anywhere with these sessions, for your sake, for Sasha's, you've got to let me know how you tick, how you live. It's what can make this easier for both you and I. Lets stop for today. Come back next week, and we'll start out fresh. Okay?"

 

"We're just gonna quit?"

 

"We've been at this for over four hours Jean. You're going to have to pick up Sasha soon."

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------

 

As I waited at the bus stop, I couldn't shake the sick feeling in my stomach. Probably because I had skipped both lunch and breakfast for the sake of getting Sasha to school on time, and me to my therapy sessions. The most I'd managed to eat was a tomato I stole from Sasha's sandwich that I'd made her for her packed lunch.

 

Right as I was considering checking my watch to see if the bus was running late, a car swerved, right in front of the curb.

 

"Hey! Jean! Need a ride?"Marco grinned from inside his 1997 honda accord. Hey, I know my cars. 

 

"To be honest, I'd rather not out of fear for my life, but It's been awhile since I've been in an actual car."

 

"Get in then! I'll take you to Hawaii even, if it suits you."

 

Before replying, I slinked my way into the passenger seat. Heaving a heavy sigh before buckling in.

 

"Just take me home and I'll make you lunch."

 

"Ha ha. I haven't had lunch yet, so that sounds like a pretty sweet deal."

 

"Do you like leftover chicken pot pie?"

 

"I can dig it."

 

"You'll probably have to do just that. Who knows where in that godforsaken fridge it might be hiding."

 

"That is…concerning."

 

"So is your reckless driving, hey you didn't yield at the light!"

 

"Eh, yellow means go while you still can-"

 

"MARCO, PLEASE."

 

"Okay! Okay, I'll try to drive better."

 

"Thank god."

 

The drive to my place mostly consisted of music and laughing. And the trip seemed to last a lot longer then it should have. Probably because Marco took a different route then the common city bus system. By the time we made it to my place it was around 2:30 pm.

 

"Make yourself at home. You were here just yesterday." I said, after I'd slammed the door shut behind us.

 

"Yeah, heh heh. It sure looks nicer then it did. Did you clean up or something this morning?"

 

"Nah, I cleaned up last night. The first time in a long time too. I've never really cleaned the place since no one ever really came over. It was always just me and Sasha and sometimes Sasha's friend Connie. He lives in one of the cookie cutter houses across the highway."

 

"Happy meal castle? Pretty intricate looking. Did you help make it?" He asks pointing at it.

 

"Nope. It was all Sasha. She can be pretty creative. She's always breaking it though. She's not the 'princess in waiting' type. More like the 'bomb the palace' type."

 

"Ha, I'd like to get to know her a bit better. She sounds like fun."

 

"To strangers maybe, to me she is the biggest pain to ever grow on my ass."

 

"Aw, but she's such a cute kid! How could you say that?"

 

"She eats everything. That's for one. She chews on pencils and she'll bite people too. But mostly she just eats all of the food. Within a week I'm out buying groceries again!"

 

"She's gotta pack on those muscles somehow."

 

"Ugh. If only. She wears them off just like that!" I said, snapping my fingers for emphases. Marco chuckled in response.

 

"Ah, but I've heard you've gotta love em as much as you can while they're young and cute. Otherwise they'll just grow so fast!"

 

"No kidding! Just the other day she's up to my hips, now she's practically up to my chest! It's insane! She's only seven! seven year olds aren't that tall either. She's sprouting way ahead of everyone else. I'm wondering if I'm feeding her too much. What if she never stops growing!? Think of the rapid amounts of clothes she'll go through at this rate!"

 

Marco was completely bent over guffawing uncontrollably while I was making a mental list of possible funding I'd need to put away if Sasha truly were to grow excessively within the next few years.

 

"You remember Bertholdt Fubar right? He was in our chemistry class," Marco started.

 

"Yeah, I remember him. The uh, blonde muscle boob one right?"

 

"No! The tall lanky one with black hair?"

 

"It was brown?"

 

"No way it was totally black. Anyways- you remember how tall he was right? Huge guy, practically competing with Mr. Zacharius in the never ending height competition."

 

"Oh yeah! He was really tall wasn't he. A lot of the girls liked him because he was a tall, dark, dorky glass of water. If that's how that saying goes."

 

"I don't think it does, but god, do you remember when he came out as bi? And even said he was dating Reiner!?"

 

"Reiner was the blonde muscle boob guy right?"

 

"Yeah, yeah."

 

"Shit, I forgot they were dating back then. Did they even go to a university? Or did they just go messing around on some never ending honeymoon?"

 

"I don't even know if they got married! I wouldn't be too surprised though."

 

"What surprises me is that no one in our grade really had a problem with it. Nowadays people are out having fits about homosexuality. To be honest, for the longest time I was also disgusted by it."

 

"What changed your mind?"

 

"Opinions mostly. Unlike most, I think I became more open minded with age rather then full of my own ideals."

 

"I don't think I ever had a problem with it. Especially considering the many varying sexualities that exist now."

 

"It was easier when it was just gay or straight ha ha. Kids are out there getting all confused and it just seems sort of ridiculous. I really don't see why they need special names for everything. Just be what you are and turn who ever you don't like down."

 

"Yeah, you've got a point."

 

"Damn right I do.- Agh its almost three. I've gotta pick up Sasha from school."

 

"I could drive you there? Do you have free time today? My shift starts at four, so we could mingle at the book store if you wanted. They have a children's section too, for Sasha?"

 

"Do you have comic books?"

 

"Yeah!"

 

"Well then that's where Sasha would want to be."

 

Marco grinned and then followed me to the door. It seemed a little asshole-ish of me to take up all of his offers, but I hadn't really thought of them as offers he wanted me to turn down.

 

We had been about a block away from Sasha's school before the after school rush flushed in. I'd climbed out of the car and waltzed around the other side, leaning against the right back seat door, waiting for Sasha's class to be let out.

 

"Hi daddy!" Sasha had greeted, the gap between her front teeth being particularly more noticeable that day.

 

"Hi Jeanbo." Grunted Connie. For some reason Connie often had many mixed feelings for me. Sometimes he'd like me, other times he'd cling to Sasha, glaring at me and calling me the name Sasha had overheard my mother use on me.

 

"Hey pipsqueak." I'd replied in a snarky tone.

 

"Buh!-"He started before Sasha clapped his face.

 

"If you want McDonalds then you can't egg him on."

 

"Today we're going to a bookstore. Afterwards we can go to a diner or something for dinner. Sound good?"

 

"YEAH!" Sasha cheered.

"Yeah." Connie half-cheered. Well fuck you too, you little snot.

 

"So, we taking both?" Marco asked as he peeked through the window.

 

"That's the man from the kitchen!" Sasha pointed.

 

"Is it!?" Connie asked confused, pointing with her. I don't think she had told him anything about Marco, acknowledging the confusion on his face. He was probably just trying to match his excitement with Sasha's.

 

"Hey there missy," Marco offered.

 

"That's what dad calls me when I'm in trouble."

 

"Damn right I do." I replied. Earning a subtle glare from Marco.

 

"D-darn right, I do." I tried. It sounded weird though so I brushed off the idea of saying that. Having a vast knowledge of curse words would help the kids in English or something.

 

"Well, hop in guys! We wanna beat the rush!" I instructed, opening the back seat door and letting Connie crawl in, and then Sasha.

 

"Buckle up turds." I'd said after walking around the car to my door. Once I'd crawled into my own seat I could feel the kicking of Connie's feet behind me.

 

"Oi this isn't your, or my car stop kicking the seat."

 

"Nah."

 

"Connie, I'll drop you off at home without getting you any dinner if you tell me 'nah' again."

 

And gladly, I felt the kicking cease. His parents had like, lots of kids, (probably three, I dunno I have my own kid to worry about) and worked full time jobs. So taking Connie around and sometimes even raising him practically made it feel like he was my kid too. But returning him to his parents wasn't so bad either. I could only take care of him on his bad days for so long.

 

"So, what did you guys' learn today?" Marco asked.

 

"That Jean is an asshole." Connie snarked.

 

"Wow okay, maybe we should just drop you off at an orphanage instead of taking you home." I replied while Marco drove with a shocked expression.

 

"NO!" Connie yelled.

 

"Well then shut the fuck up." 

 

"JEAN." Marco scolded. 

 

"Daddy I'm hungry." Sasha whined while scribbling in a notebook she'd pulled out of her backpack. 

 

"That better not be your math notebook."

 

"It's not my math notebook…It's history."

 

"Okay then."

 

"WHAT." Marco yelled, clearly confused by everything.

 

"JEAN I DON'T WANNA GO TO THE ORPHANAGE!"

 

"Ya not gonna Connie, calm down." I replied.

 

"Daddy, Connie is flicking boogers at your seat!"

 

"Connie I swear to God-"

 

"OKay we're here." Marco broke in, adding under his breath "Thank Jesus."

 

We both climbed out of the front seats, before I went back to get Sasha and Connie unbuckled, who knew how to unbuckle themselves just fine, but also so I could pinch Connie a few times during the process to avenge my lost parental pride.

 

"So, this is where I work," Marco started, displaying with his arms the building, with a proud grin on his face. "It's been around since the 70's. Kind of has that, 'hole in the wall' vibe to it."

 

"What does hole in the wall mean?" Sasha asked.

 

"It means hipster trash." I replied, with Connie's nod of approval for choice of words. He had his own hipster back at home, his older brother, who wore 2 scarves during the summer and stylish tank tees during the winter.

 

"Ooooh. Huh." Sasha replied, understanding instantly. Marco looked slightly disappointed, and slightly offended, but smirked anyways.

 

He had us follow him through the door, a bell jingling upon our entry. 

 

"30% off the books in the corner- Oh hey Marco, you're early." Said a platinum blonde. She was wearing glasses, and looked like goth hipster quality. 

 

"Nah I'm not here for my shift yet Rico. But say hi to Jean, Jean this is Rico." He said her name in an excited tone, like he enjoyed saying the name. I'd nodded in her direction, about to offer a cool but subtle, 'hi' but was distracted by Connie and Sasha who were getting into their rampaging modes.

 

"Hey Marco, Dot wants to know if we could swap shifts Saturday. Apparently he's having an open house starting a noon and he thinks you'd be better with the people more so then me. Sound good?"

 

"Yeah, I can take the time for that."

 

"Cool."

 

And then they never spoke again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Now to work on the next chapters! Please feel free to leave a comment!


	4. Forecast

"So, what genre do you like?" Marco asked as he skimmed through various titles in the aisle of books we'd found ourselves in. He didn't seem too focused on my opinion, more like he just wanted to keep the mood even and bring up some topic we could lightly converse over. He'd ignored his coworker after she'd given him the shift updates, and the air between them seemed a bit stiff and awkward. Like something was off with their relationship. I decided against being a nosey old lady and asking him about it, and instead came up with my own theories about the two.

 

"Oh. Uh, depends I guess. Mood usually has a lot to do with it." I sound like some whiney teenager. God. Mood- there aint no mood to it, I just don't want him to know that I have just as many adult sexual novels as I do kiddy cook books.  

 

"Ah. I see." See what exactly. That's what I'd like to know.

 

"So um, sorry to ask you this but…uh-"

 

"Hm?" Marco hummed half-assedly. 

 

"Would you mind driving us to dinner? I'd treat you- if you- I guess-"

 

"Oh. Yeah sure."

 

"Cool. So…where'd you like to g-"

 

"Anywhere is fine."

 

"Oh. Well then." I leaned down toward the lower shelf to skim through the survival manuals as I thought of a suggestion. Wait- this is a humorously compromising position…How about you have dinner in my ass…ugh that seems way less sexy then I thought it would be…I'm imagining a tiny diner in my ass, god I need to sleep more. "How about Pizza?"

 

"Yeah. Sounds good. Do you mean like…Figaro's or…"

 

"There's a classic pizza diner two blocks from here actually, I think the kids would prefer there, if you're okay with it."

 

"Oh. Yeah sure." He stated blankly as he flipped through the pages of a book he'd picked up. "Though it's more like three blocks from here. Not two."

 

"So you've been there before huh?"

 

"No, I just know the sights."

 

"I hardly think Hardass's Pizza is a 'sight'."

 

"You're right. The real sight is how you've swapped out Hardy's for Hardass's."

 

"You sure are sassy today." Marco jerked up from the book he was reading to look over his shoulder at me, before he had to scale his vision down to see me squatting on the floor, picking through the books on the bottom shelf.

 

"Sorry, it's a habit when I'm not all there."

 

"I'm not complaining." I shrug, as I stack a few of the parenting manuals in my lap to look through when I'm back to my full height and closer to the light. 

 

"But yeah, pizza sounds good." Damn straight. It's fucking pizza. Tell me of a time when pizza never sounded good.

 

"Daddy! Can I get this one?" Sasha exclaimed, charging up to me like a rhino and holding up this picture book with an attached stuffed animal. Was that supposed to be a dog?

 

"We're not here for toys, Sasha. We're here for books."

 

"But it has a book! It's got words! See?" She ripped open the book and flashed me a page. 

 

"Yeah… this isn't going to improve your reading skills, it's an ABC's book. What is with that dog anyways? Let me see this shit-" I took it from her grasp and gawked at them both. The dog was…eh. The book had this fucking pom pom with legs on the cover, and the title 'Boo: The World's Cutest Dog'. I'd seen cuter. 

 

"Yeah-no. Put it back." I ordered as I dropped it into her arms. 

 

"But daaaaaddyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" She whined, dragging my name out long and endlessly. Wait no not my name- I mean title. Yeah title. Not name. Who ever heard of a Daddy Kirschtein? That's just stupid.

 

"But noooooooooooooooooooo. Put the god damn thing back. Just look at it Sasha!, it's head is so big it can't even hold it up!"

 

"But Sunny has one!"

 

"Who?"

 

"You know, Connie sister."

 

"Oh yeah." I totally forgot Connie had other siblings. Like, three. Huh.

 

"She dresses it up and everything! In real dog clothes! Please?"

 

"What kind of dog clothes would even fit that thing? How much is it?"

 

"Twenty four dollars."

 

"HOLY FUCKING WHAT. IS IT'S HEAD STUFFED WITH GOLD? OH MY GOD DON'T TOUCH IT PUT IT BACK I DON'T WANT TO PAY FOR IT IF YOU BREAK IT."

 

"BUT DAAAAAAD!"

 

"NO. PUT IT BACK. NOW. RIGHT NOW. DIRECTLY NOW."

 

"Jean! Sasha, can you both please quiet down? There are other customers here…" Marco intercepted, looking over his shoulders at people who weren't even paying attention. 

 

"Marco, really- why is that thing so gOD DAMN EXPENSIVE?"

 

"Jean! Shush! Not so loud-" He tried, before breaking off into giggling and shaking his head. "It's because it's cute, and I guess good quality? That's why it's so pricey."

 

"God damn."

 

"Please, please, please daddy! It's so cute! Look at it's little brown eyes!"

 

"I will not look at it's orbs of death and neither will you. Put it back. You don't need another toy, you need reading material. Now go." Sasha wandered off, muttering something under her breath, which I was too lazy to get all pissed and demand she repeat what she said to my face. 

 

"She's pretty well-behaved…" Marco started, to which I practically broke my neck to turn and gawk at him with wide eyes and gaping mouth.

 

"Come on Jean, don't look at me like that. I remember when I was a kid, I'd throw the worst tantrums over a toy my mother wouldn't let me get. So bad, that'd she just end up getting me the toy to shut me up. Sasha gave a fight, but it was a pretty weak one. You've gotta admit, you probably threw some pretty bad fits yourself."

 

"Excuse me, but I was a little angel. I'd never think to throw a fit over a toy- but God, you did? You seem like the perfect little kid and shit-"

 

"Hey, no kid is perfect. I was the glorified brat of my family."

 

"Family huh? Got siblings?"

 

"Yeah. A little brother."

 

"Sweet. What's his name?"

 

"Matthew. He's twelve. Mom says he looks like a little me, but that kid has the hair of a god. It's not fair."

 

"Haha."

 

"Shut up! I'm serious! His hair is wavy and everything. It's like I'm the one who got stuck with cowlicks." Marco grimaced when I started cackling. 

 

"Honestly!" He huffed. "You just don't get what a competition it is to compete against an attractive younger brother like mine. Imagine a little you, whose _better_ than you."

 

"No such thing. I'm the best me out there, and that's a fact." I deadpanned. 

 

"Of course. How silly of me. I'm such an idiot." Marco replied sarcastically, yet again. I smirked, before glancing both ways down our aisle. 

 

"Hold on, I need to find Connie." I said, earning a nod of understanding from Marco before I strutted off in search of a tiny bald ape child. Seriously, that tiny tot of snot got lost more often than found. And that's saying something. When I finally spotted the little twerp, he was all curled up in a bean bag chair, with a girl's body book falling to the floor while he snoozed. Damn. What a cute, creepy kid. I kneeled down in front of him, brushing off his little coat, only to find him completely knocked out. Maybe today was a PE day. That'd explain his cranky attitude in the car…

 

" _Connie_?" I whispered, double checking to make sure he wasn't just playing dead because I'd caught him with a girl's body book. He squirmed slightly, furrowing his little brows in irritation, before settling again. Yup. He's knocked. I picked him up carefully, settling his chin on my shoulder, before searching for Sasha. Once I found her bumbling self, and told her to shut the fuck up in a _nice_ way, I went in search of Marco, who'd only managed to make it one aisle over, with my books of choice under one of his arms.

 

"Yo, Marco." 

 

"Yeah?-Oh. Is…is he dead?"

 

"Nah, just tuckered out. Can you just drive us to my place? I can order take-out."

 

"Yeah, Yeah! Sure." Marco smiled, "Did you want these?" He held up my books, and I skimmed them for a moment. Be nice to Connie and take him home with no interruptions, or buy the books and give to the cause that is Marco's job. The toughest choices for Daddy Kirstchien to make. I chose to be the nice douche bag, and gave Marco a twenty, pitifully asking him to buy me my books. And then handed him a ten and five so he could add Sasha's ugly dog toy to the mix. I'm a sucker, what can I say. Sasha became all giddy about that, so I had her stick with Marco and help him carry our shit out with him once he'd made the purchase, while I took his keys and settled Connie into the car. Once the two of them came out with the bag of books and satan, and had situated themselves in the car (Sasha with my help), Marco passed his fancy fuckin phone to Sasha with a pair of earbuds so she could listen to some of his ringtones collection, leaving the two of us with silence for the rest of the drive. 

 

"You make a good dad." I said thoughtlessly. 

 

"No one compares to you." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Finally. Feel free to leave some comments, they really do motivate me.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this fic in my notes for a while, just one lone chapter that I hadn't done anything with. But upon rereading it, I realized I actually like it, so I'm going to keep working with it. I have big plans for this fic, and I hope you all enjoy the wild ride ahead.  
> The official tag on tumblr for this fic shall be 'rain boots fanfic' :)  
> Feel free to leave a comment, and message me on my tumblr, Rainingfailure.tumblr.com


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